


Tongue Tied

by perthbysaint



Category: TharnType the Series (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Tharn, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, An Abundance of Slick, Barebacking, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, Light Body Image Issues, M/M, Omega!Type, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21667201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perthbysaint/pseuds/perthbysaint
Summary: “Well, if you don’t like my fucking temper, why don’t you go find another, lessfatboyfriend?” Type snarled.They both froze, going deathly quiet.“Did you just call yourselffat?"Tharn asked quietly.Or: Omega Type deals with his insecurities about himself and his relationship. Tharn takes him to pieces and tells him everything he loves about him in the process.Russian Translation availablehere
Relationships: Tharn Kirigun/Type (TharnType)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 1108





	Tongue Tied

**Author's Note:**

> anyways if u need me i'll be in the nearest church praying my sins away. enjoy!!
> 
> [ if you're a native Russian speaker, a kind soul translated this into Russian [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9217259) ]

Type wasn’t sure what kind of god was testing him right now, but he was sure that he was about to fail this test miserably. When Tharn had asked Type if he could tag along with him to his soccer practice, Type had shrugged and agreed, expecting Tharn to sit on the sidelines, look pretty, and maybe give him water after he made some particularly impressive trick shot. He really should have known his asshole of a boyfriend would never make things easy for him. Which was why he was here, now, along with way more people than he cared for, ogling his boyfriend as he kicked a ball around the field and looked _good_ doing it. Tharn was never the one to flaunt how his alpha genes gave him almost perfect hand-eye coordination and way more athleticism than any one person reasonably needed, which is why it was so odd that he was out there now, having never played soccer before, bouncing the ball on his knee like he was born to do it.

As if he could sense Type thinking about him, Tharn turned to look at him, still not losing control of the ball, the _bastard,_ and called, “Hey, this is pretty fun! I see why you do it all the time, babe.”

Type snorted, unwilling to show how wildly jealous he was of Tharn’s apparent God-given talent for fucking _soccer._ It wasn’t that Type hated being an omega. It had its own advantages and benefits. Omegas tended to be smarter, for example, and better with solving puzzles and reading peoples’ emotions. Type just happened to be a really _bad_ omega. He hated puzzles, wasn’t that brilliant, and any emotional intelligence he once possessed died a slow, painful death long, long ago. Really, all he had was his passion for sports, and here was his boyfriend, out here being way better than Type was after a year of practice. Type shuddered to think how fast Tharn would pick it up if he actually gave a damn and wasn’t just fucking around with a ball. What was worse was Type couldn’t even dislike Tharn for it— the sheer glee on his face as he messed around with some of the other members of the soccer team did things to his heart he wasn’t quite sure he liked. 

Tharn dropped the ball to the ground and kicked it to Champ, turning and smiling sweetly to Type. He always smiled at Type like that, even before they started dating after about three months of Tharn slowly annoying Type into liking him with letters and food and once, a whole ass flowering cactus with a note that read _Prickly on the outside, but beautiful, just like you. :)_ Type had punched him in the arm for that one and then agreed to go to dinner with him. He hadn’t regretted that decision yet. Tharn was the only person Type knew that could put up with him, for one. His grumpy exterior and rather apparent dislike for 90% of the alpha species tended to drive off most potential suitors; that had suited Type just fine until one irritatingly persistent alpha had crash-landed into his heart and set up a house in there, never to leave. 

He was drawn out of his thoughts by increasingly loud murmuring from the ever-growing crowd of gawking girls behind him and _yep,_ Tharn was taking his shirt off. Of course he was, because Type wasn’t going through it enough already. Tharn used his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face before draping it around his neck. Yes, it was hot, but wasn’t Tharn aware he was making it way hotter by taking his shirt off? Don’t say that out loud, that sounds stupid as hell. 

Type tried valiantly not to choke on the water he was drinking and mostly succeeded. He was gonna go ahead and consider that one a win. Then his water bottle was being taken out of his hands and Tharn was giving him a teasing smile as he lifted Type’s water to his mouth and took a long drink from it, water dripping down his chin and running down his neck and— yeah, that, that was abs. Very nice abs. Type had seen Tharn’s abs before, of course. He’d seen all of Tharn on many, many occasions. That still didn’t mean he didn’t want to reach out and touch, run his hand along Tharn’s warm skin, trace Tharn’s muscles with his fingertips, slide his hand into Tharn’s pants— and that was _enough of that particular train of thought, thanks very much._ Type would have to kill everyone on this field and then himself if they caught even the tiniest hint of his rapidly blooming arousal. Tharn sighed happily as he took the water bottle away from his lips, wiping a droplet of water off his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s hot,” he offered as a way of explanation for his water bottle thievery. 

“Couldn’t have gotten your own? I was drinking that,” Type groused, trying not to show how much Tharn’s little water bottle makeout session had actually affected him.

“Sorry, baby. I’ll make it up to you later, how’s that?” Tharn definitely knew what he was doing to Type, the jerk.

“Whatever. Go back to your ball,” Type said, turning his head to hide his blush.

Tharn’s smile was dazzling as he bounced back to where the others were waiting for him. 

With a groan, Techno tossed himself down on the bench next to Type, leaned over to fish a water bottle from their cooler, cracked it open, and drained half the bottle in one go. “Your boyfriend sure can run circles around me,” he said cheerfully, pulling up his shirt to wipe his face. Type wished he was that confident in removing his shirt in public. He was sure it was easy for people like Techno, who carried exactly zero body fat no matter how much they ate, and people like Tharn, who had abs you could do your laundry on. Type fit into neither of those categories and so he kept his shirt on.

“Everyone can run circles around you. You’re allergic to running,” Type said, rolling his eyes and polishing off the water bottle Tharn had given back to him. 

“Yeah, but he can _really_ run circles around me. He’s like, really good at… everything. And have you seen his fuckin’ muscles?”

“More than you have,” Type muttered, but bit his lip. He knew Tharn was hot, obviously— he wasn’t about to date some ugly fuck. But he also knew he wasn’t the only one who thought Tharn was the Mary Poppins of alphas _(Practically perfect in every way)_ and could definitely do better than some smart mouth omega asshole. 

“So tell me your secrets, Type, best buddy of mine,” Techno continued, unaware of Type’s inner turmoil. “How did you land an alpha like _that_ when you’re like _this?”_ He waved his hands vaguely in Type’s direction, and had his hands just paused slightly at Type’s stomach? The layer of padding he stored on his belly and hips— a common omega trait that Type had never managed to get rid of— sprang unprompted to mind and Type realized that Techno, his own best friend, didn’t think he was good enough for Tharn either. The thought was like a bucket of cold water being thrown over him and his hand came up to rest unconsciously to rest on his belly. His slightly poking out belly. 

Type didn’t think he wanted to play any more soccer today.

~

Tharn was still raving about the practice when they got back to their apartment, hands gesturing dramatically as he regaled Type with the epic tale of how he scored his very first goal. Type had been there for this, but he let Tharn chatter away, his enthusiasm contagious. 

“-I totally get why you always want to be out there on the field now,” Tharn said as he kicked his shoes off at the door and nudged them up against the wall in a somewhat orderly fashion so he or Type wouldn’t trip over them. “It’s so close to the feeling I get when I’m up on stage with my band.”

“I’m glad you had a good time,” Type said, bending down to untie his laces. “I’m sure those girls enjoyed your little striptease, too.” 

He heard Tharn laugh above him. “Unfortunately for them, my ‘little striptease’ wasn’t for them. It was for someone else. And speaking of, that reminds me….” Kneeling down in front of him, Tharn leaned in close to Type’s face, breath hot against Type’s mouth. “I think I owe you a little making up, huh? Since I was mean and stole your water bottle.” 

“I was enjoying that water bottle,” Type breathed out. Tharn shifted forward that last inch and kissed Type hungrily, hand coming up to cup the back of Type’s neck so he could tilt Type’s head to kiss him properly. Type loved Tharn’s kisses, how demanding he was and so sweet. Nothing could light a fire in Type’s stomach like Tharn kissing him like he wanted to eat him alive. He sighed into Tharn’s mouth, pressing needily into his warmth, his touch. He was awkwardly off balance, still crouched over from where he was undoing his shoes, and Tharn’s genius solution was to sit back against the floor and pull Type forward at the same time until Type was on his hands and knees over Tharn’s body, kissing him the whole time. Tharn’s hand was still holding Type’s neck possessively and the other hand started sliding its way up Type’s thigh, touch so hot it was almost burning him. 

And then Tharn’s hand slipped under Type’s shirt and he was jolted back to reality. Type pulled away and backed up off of a confused looking Tharn. Holding the edges of his shirt in his hands to make sure nothing was showing, he stood up, insecurity like an icy shower for his growing arousal. “I just, um, remembered I have an assignment due really early tomorrow. So I should probably go shower and… do that,” he muttered to his toes, not looking Tharn in the eye. It was for the better, anyway. Tharn probably didn’t want to sleep with him anyhow. He had said something about it being him “making it up” to Type. Type would let him off the hook this once. 

“Uh, what?” Tharn said from where he was still on the floor. “Can… can you do the assignment later? We were kind of-” he waved a hand to the tent in his shorts, “-in the middle of something here.”

“No, I better get it done now. You know my dad will be furious if my grades slip, and that’s one of the requirements for me living off-campus so….” Type didn’t bother waiting for his boyfriend’s reply, just stepped past him and made a break for the privacy of the bathroom. 

Tharn’s gaze followed him as he ducked inside the bathroom and closed the door.

Type leaned against the bathroom door and sighed. Not wanting Tharn to get suspicious that he was just sitting in the bathroom doing nothing, he turned the water of the shower on and stripped his clothes off. His reflection stared back at him. He was tall, and his face was decent, but that was kind of all he had going for him. Type poked at his hips and stomach, watched his finger dimple the soft flesh. He bet if he poked Tharn’s stomach it wouldn’t squish like his did. Sighing, Type rubbed his hands against his face and tried not to think about how much better of a mate Tharn deserved.

Tharn was waiting for him when he got out of the shower, arms crossed across his chest. “Are you okay?” the alpha asked him bluntly. “You seem… off.”

“Well, your senses must be off, because I’m fine. Anyways, the shower’s all yours,” Type replied, brushing past Tharn because if he didn’t, and he looked Tharn in his lovely caring eyes, he was going to crack like a porcelain plate against the ground and beg Tharn to not leave him, and his dignity just couldn’t take that blow. 

“Are you sure?” Tharn said, reaching out for Type’s hip where he always seemed to want to hold him. Type dodged the touch, didn’t want Tharn’s hands to have to touch him.

“Fine. I’m fine. Actually, I think I’m going to go to bed early and just get up to do my assignment.” Type faked a yawn. “I’m really tired.”

“...It’s 7:30,” Tharn said slowly, looking at Type like he’d lost his mind.

“It’s been a long day,” Type snapped, bunching his shirt in his hands. “Anyways, why do you care? Go take a shower already.” 

“Damn, alright.” Tharn held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m going. I’ll… be to bed soon.”

“Yeah, alright,” Type said, already shuffling off to their bed. He curled up on the bed, as close to the edge as possible. Tucking his cold hands up under his chin, he buried his face in his pillow. It smelled like him and Tharn, like both of their individual scents blended into one soft, soothing scent that Type wanted to drown in. He wondered if when Tharn found another omega he liked better, would their scents be better than this one?

He didn’t get much rest that night. He’d shaken Tharn off when he tried to cuddle up against his back and regretted it almost immediately. In the middle of June, Type was too cold to sleep.

~

Type woke up feeling just as bad as he’d gone to sleep feeling, except this time it was coupled with the fact that he’d slept maybe two hours, and those two hours were exceptionally Not Restful. He dragged himself up into a sitting position and scrubbed at his eyes, hating everything in the world at that moment.

“Good morning,” a warm voice said. Tharn was sitting on the edge of their bed, a cup of tea clutched in his hands. “Are you feeling better?”

“‘M alright,” Type said, making grabby hands for the tea. Tharn relinquished it with a pleased smile and reached out and smoothed Type’s wild rat’s nest of a bedhead.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he said, stroking Type’s hair.

“I look like a power washed rat, don’t patronize me,” Type grumbled into his cup of tea. 

“Yes, but you’re _my_ power washed rat, and that makes you the prettiest power washed rat on the whole planet,” Tharn said like it wasn’t the smarmiest thing Type had ever heard come out of anyone’s mouth ever.

“Wow. Did you get diabetes saying that? Gross,” he scoffed, throwing the covers off his legs and standing up. “‘M gonna go take a shower.” He put the half-full cup of tea on the bedside table.

Tharn didn’t stop him and he closed the bathroom door, turning the water on and removing his clothing, back turned purposefully to the mirror. The water was warm and he stood under it for a few minutes just to bask. Then hands were encircling his waist and Type about had a heart attack, shrieking like he was being murdered. “Hey, hey, baby, it’s just me, relax! Didn’t you hear me say I was coming in?” His boyfriend’s voice did nothing to calm the panic Type had rapidly fallen into, except his fear had gone from being killed in his own house to his boyfriend looking at him and being _disgusted_ by him. All Tharn had to do was look at him and he’d realize what a huge mistake he’d made in choosing Type, in choosing the world’s most useless omega, to be his partner. And God, Type didn’t want him to leave him.

“Why are you even in here? Get out! Leave!” he yelled, struggling to remove himself from Tharn’s hold, Tharn’s touch. 

“Type, what’s wrong with you?” Tharn’s voice sounded upset, scared even, and the omega in Type whined, wanted to soothe his alpha. But he was the cause of his alpha’s pain. 

Type tried to jerk himself from Tharn’s grip, but his alpha’s arms were locked tight around his waist. “Get off of me. I said, get out!” 

“Type, you’ve been acting crazy since yesterday. It’s like your temper’s gone out of control, and you need to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you,” Tharn insisted, trying to get Type to look at him.

“Well, if you don’t like my fucking temper, why don’t you go find another, less _fat_ boyfriend?” Type snarled.

They both froze, going deathly quiet. The sound of water running from the shower was the only noise in the whole bathroom. Type stared at the floor, eyes wide. He couldn’t believe he’d just said that. Couldn’t believe he’d just dumped out his biggest insecurity for Tharn to see and poke at.

“Did you just call yourself _fat?_ ” Tharn asked quietly.

“Shut up,” Type sniffed, hating himself for how the emotions started building up in the form of tears. He blinked quickly, trying not to cry. That was the last thing he needed. This whole thing was already a clusterfuck of terrible.

“Baby. Please. Please tell me what’s wrong,” Tharn said, dropping his nose down into the crook of Type’s neck against his scent gland. Type was certain he couldn’t smell all that great right now, embarrassment and sadness souring his scent, but Tharn didn’t seem to care, nuzzling up against Types skin. “Please, I just want to help you.”

“I-” Type started, voice cracking. “I don’t-” His head fell forward and thudded against the shower wall. “Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, barely audible above the water. 

“Don’t leave you? Baby, why would I ever want to leave you? You’re perfect for me.” Tharn squeezed his waist tighter, pulling Type’s body up against his own. Type could feel cloth against his back and realized that Tharn had gotten into the shower with him nearly fully clothed, which was such a Tharn move that he almost smiled.

“You say that, but you haven’t realized that I’m a bad omega yet,” Type continued, addressing the wall because if he thought too much about Tharn he was going to start crying and never stop. “Tharn, you’re- you’re so good and handsome and could have anyone you wanted and I’m… me. The angry, bitter omega who never got over his fear of alphas. And can’t you tell? I’m getting fat.” 

“Type, look at me,” Tharn said. His voice was soft, but there was no question that this wasn’t a request. Slowly, Type peeked over his shoulder and almost slipped. Tharn was looking at him with tears in his eyes, one sluggishly making its way down his cheek. “How could you say that about yourself? You’re none of the things you just said. If anyone is good and handsome and could have anyone he wants, I’m looking at him right now. Type, baby, you’re- you’re _everything_ to me.”

Type reached up and wiped Tharn’s tears away, holding his face cradled in his hands. “Don’t cry,” he said, heart aching. “Please don’t cry.”

“Then don’t say those kinds of things about the person I’m in love with, okay?” Tharn tried to smile at him, but it was a sad smile.

“I’m- you’re-” Type bit his lip. “I wish I could believe you.”

Tharn’s grip loosened for a second and Type started to panic, thinking he’d successfully convinced his alpha that he wasn’t worth it and oh, how he wanted to take everything back, but Tharn just reached up to lace his fingers through Type’s. “If you don’t believe me when I tell you, let me show you.”

“Show me?” Type was confused.

Tharn turned the water off and tugged on his hand. Type stepped out of the shower and followed him out of the bathroom. He let out a squeak of surprise when Tharn shoved him, soaking wet, onto their bed and crawled up over him. It was the first time Type was seeing him in all his soaked-to-the-bone glory, with his see-through t-shirt and drenched basketball shorts. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead and his eyes and nose were still red and puffy from crying. Type was sure he looked just as rough, and he would laugh if he wasn’t quite done crying. Tharn bullied Type’s legs apart as he placed himself between them, a hand on either side of Type’s hips. 

“You don’t seem to believe me when I tell you I love you, love your body,” Tharn murmured, brushing a hand against Type’s hip. He shied away from the contact, but Tharn only touched him more firmly. “Baby, you have no _idea_ the things you do to me.”

“There are better omegas than me out there,” Type insisted, trying to close his legs, cover his hips, his thighs, his stomach. “You just wanted me because I was a challenge.”

“You were a challenge, alright. But that’s not why I wanted you. Why I still want you,” Tharn tugged Type a little closer by the hips. “And trust me when I say I still want you. I want you so bad it _hurts me_ sometimes to look at you. You don’t see it because you never look, but I’m not the only one who wants you. Alphas, betas, even some omegas. They all look at you.”

“They look at me because I’m an asshole and they’re wondering why someone let me out of my cage,” Type said, breathing coming a little quicker now, heat starting to flood his face.

“They look because you’re _gorgeous,_ baby. The prettiest person I’ve ever seen. So yes, they look. But I’m the only one who gets to _touch._ ” Tharn leaned down and pressed a kiss to Type’s throat, feeling Type’s pulse race against his lips. “And they are so jealous of me, sweetheart. Because they’ll never get to know what you taste like-” he pressed a kiss to Type’s lips, licked into his mouth, “-what you feel like-” a hand groped at the inside of Type’s thigh and he found his legs spreading further apart easily, “-what you _sound_ like.” Tharn bit gently at Type’s neck, scraped his teeth against his scent gland where he hoped someday Type would bare his mark and Type moaned, slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. Tharn pulled his hand away, held it down to the blanket next to his head. “Moan for me, baby, okay?”

Type felt himself start to drip slick, covering his thighs with glossy, shiny liquid. Tharn looked delighted, dipped his other hand down between Type’s legs to slide through his slick. Then, as Type watched with pupils blown wide, Tharn stuck his fingers in his mouth, tongue scraping up his fingers as he licked all the slick off his fingers without ever breaking eye contact with Type. “The things you do to me,” he said lowly, wiggling his fingers teasingly. 

“Touch me,” Type breathed out, thighs falling apart around Tharn’s hips. “Please.”

Tharn shifted down, kissed Type heavily. Type could taste his own slick on Tharn’s tongue. “I’m going to touch you, baby,” Tharn said against his mouth. “And when I’ve touched my fill, I’m going to knot you so good you’re going to _cry_ for me.”

Type’s hips bucked against Tharn, a broken moan escaping his lips. “Alpha,” he whined.

Tharn pressed one last kiss to Type’s mouth before trailing downwards, pressing hundreds of tiny pecks to Type’s chin, jaw, throat, chest. With the same hand he’d used to taste Type’s slick, he thumbed at Type’s puffy nipple, Type making the sweetest noises of pleasure for him. They only increased in volume for him when he bent down and took the other nipple in his teeth, licking and biting and sucking until Type pushed at his head, begging for relief. He ducked back up and kissed Type again, addicted to his lips. “Love you,” he said, hips grinding slowly against Type’s ass. “Love everything about you.”

Type reached up and wrapped his arms around Tharn’s neck, pulled him into another tongue-filled kiss that was more them moaning into each others’ mouths than anything. “Tell me,” he begged. “Tell me why.”

“Love your mouth,” Tharn said, sliding his thumb into Type’s mouth, watched as Type’s lips closed around his thumb, all pink and pouty. “Love kissing it, love watching you talk, watching you smile. You’ve got the prettiest mouth.”

Type sucked on Tharn’s thumb, drooling a little down his chin. Tharn slipped his finger out but just as Type was about to whine from the loss, Tharn slipped his pointer and middle finger into Type’s mouth, felt his hot tongue. Type hummed in pleasure, sucked on Tharn’s fingers until Tharn was almost dizzy with it. “You’re so good,” Tharn praised. “Love you.” 

He removed his fingers from Type’s mouth, letting Type catch his breath for only a second before he kissed him again, trailing his slick fingers down Type’s body. “Fuck, Alpha,” Type gasped as Tharn’s hand went to his thigh, gripping it firmly. 

“Love your thighs,” Tharn continued, moving down Type’s body to kiss wetly at Type’s belly. “Your legs are so long and pretty. Want them wrapped around me all the time.” As Tharn ducked his head to bite gently at Type’s thighs, Type’s hand laced through Tharn’s hair and _pulled,_ ripping a moan from Tharn’s throat. The feeling of Type’s shaky hand in his hair went straight to Tharn’s cock, already hard and leaking in his shorts, but he pressed his own need away to focus on Type and how he was shivering with pleasure underneath him.

“Can I eat you out, pretty baby?” he asked, digging his fingers into Type’s thighs. 

Type’s grip in his hair tightened and he nodded frantically. “Please, please, Alpha.” He didn’t say much more than that, just spread his legs a little further, hooked an ankle around Tharn’s shoulder to tug him closer to where he was trickling slick all over their sheets. 

Tharn grinned in delight, bowed his head down between Type’s thighs. His thighs were shiny and soft with his slick, smelling so sweet Tharn couldn’t resist having a taste. Type keened as he felt Tharn’s tongue against his thigh, mixed with kisses and nibbles. He knew he would have marks later, and he was glad for that. He wanted them, wanted to know he belonged to Tharn as much as Tharn belonged to him. “Bite me, bite me,” he pleaded, pulling Tharn harder against him. Tharn satisfied his request eagerly, biting at Type’s thighs until he was almost crying with how good it felt. And then Tharn lapped over where he was still leaking slick, and Type wailed, hand shaking in Tharn’s hair. Pleased with this reaction, Tharn licked at him again, pushed his tongue inside Type. 

“Love your slick,” Tharn said, rocking back just a bit to whisper to Type. His mouth was shiny with Type’s slick and Tharn wiped at his mouth with his finger, only to suck his finger into his mouth. “You taste so good, baby.” As if to prove his point, he moved back in, tongue sliding back into Type. Tharn always ate Type out like a man starved, but today he was even more insatiable, dragging his fingers and tongue against Type’s soft, slippery walls until Type was begging for him to stop.

“Please, can’t take any more,” Type said, chest heaving and hand slipping from Tharn’s hair. “Fuck me, Alpha. Please, want you to fuck me, need your knot.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Tharn said, almost forgetting about his own aching need in his desire to please Type. He jerked his shirt and shorts off and quickly dipped a hand between Type’s legs again to gather enough of his slick to coat his cock in the shiny liquid. “I’ll give you anything you want, pretty baby.”

Type reached for Tharn and Tharn laced their fingers together, pressing a kiss to the back of Type’s hand. “Love your hands,” he said as he pulled Type’s hips up into his lap. “Love your pretty fingers and how strong your hands are and how they feel in my hands, my hair, my mouth.” He gently guided the head of his cock to Type’s slick, slippery soft entrance and pressed in. 

Type’s mouth fell open and his thighs squeezed Tharn’s hips as he simultaneously tried to get more of and escape the feeling of Tharn filling him up. 

He needed hardly any time to adjust, and soon Tharn was rocking against him, dragging his cock against Type’s sensitive walls as more slick slipped from Type. Their sex was always messy—Type made a lot of slick and Tharn loved it, tried to get him to leak as much as possible, even when Type bitched about always having to change the sheets every day. As Tharn thrust into Type, shoving him roughly into the mattress just the way Type liked it, he cupped Type’s face in his hand. “You know what my favorite part about you is?”

“W-what?” Type stuttered, the effort of trying to hold a conversation while also getting railed within an inch of his life a bit too much for him.

“Love your tummy,” Tharn groaned out, pressing a kiss to said tummy. “Love how your skin is so soft and you let me lay on your belly. You make me feel _safe,_ baby, when I’m laying on your tummy and you’re stroking my hair. Makes me love you so much I think my heart will burst.” 

Type dug his fingers into the sheets, tightening around Tharn desperately. Tharn almost lost it then and there as he felt Type’s walls contract around him, hot and tight and sweet. He bit and licked hickeys into Type’s stomach as he got a hand under Type’s leg and hitched it up over his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck into Type. Type was beautiful spread out under him, and the only thing that would make him even more so was seeing his face as he came on Tharn’s cock. “Gonna come, baby? Gonna come for me?” Tharn said, yanking Type’s hip even harder against his own and grinding into him so hard he was sure there were going to be bruises on the tops of his thighs later.

“Yeah, _fuck,_ gonna-” Type whined before his whole body tightened and he came across Tharn’s stomach with a long, high-pitched moan. 

Watching Type come proved to be too much for Tharn, who was already close to the edge before he even got inside Type, and with one last heavy push, his knot fully formed, locking him inside Type’s body, still quaking with the aftereffects of his own orgasm. 

“You fo-forgot a condom,” Type wheezed out, not looking too terribly put out, even as Tharn flooded his already dripping entrance with his come. He pulled Tharn down to rest on his chest. Tharn could hear his heartbeat, fluttering like a bird.

“You’re on birth control and I’ll clean you up later,” Tharn muttered exhaustedly. Knotting always took it out of him like nothing else, and he wanted nothing more than to just nap on Type’s warm chest for the next hundred years. 

Type just laughed softly, the sound music to Tharn’s ears. 

“So do you believe me now when I say that I want you?” Tharn asked, cheek resting on Type’s chest as he glanced up at Type with one eye.

“Hmm, for now,” Type replied, running his fingers through Tharn’s bedraggled hair. “You may have to remind me every now and then.”

“Pretty baby, I’ll remind you every day if you let me,” Tharn said, leaning into Type’s touch.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Type warned.

“Good. Hold me to it,” Tharn challenged. “I want you to.”

“Then I will.”

Tharn knew Type’s insecurities weren’t just going to disappear like a pebble in a deep pool, but hopefully, with Tharn’s help and love, they could weather that storm together. Tharn believed they could do it.

He was pretty sure Type did, too.

**Author's Note:**

> just for clarification, no techno was not calling type fat, he was calling him an asshole. there's a difference. come yell at me on tumblr @fightertutor im horny on main there too


End file.
